The Little Know-It-All
by Cerenbus.Snape.Malfoy
Summary: Snape's reasoning behind not liking egghead students. Featuring an OC Slytherin over-achiever who desperately wants to get Snape's attention. Will she be able to? (no longer a one-shot) HIATUS!
1. Chapter 1

Aphandy Ayleest wasn't happy. She wasn't happy in the slightest. It was her first year at Hogwarts, and she was doing exceptionally well, hitting it off with many students, earning well-deserved praises from all the professors… well, all but one. Severus Snape. The dreaded potions master and head of Slytherin house.

Aphandy, being a Slytherin herself, was an aspiring potions master, and looked up to her head of house with a hopeful heart, but her hopeful smile was always returned in the form of a disapproving scowl. She had top grades, exemplary behavior, and the finest coming of age brewer in her class, possibly even a few classes ahead of her as well.

This, the potions master noted as egotistical overconfidence and always marked Aphandy off as an 'insufferable know-it-all' as he often did with Hermione Granger. But this was not something Aphandy was at all content to let stand. She was desperate to impress the stone-faced potions master, often by doing more complicated potions than required and doing them perfectly.

While mildly impressed by her proclivity for the art of potions, he never truly appreciated her excellence in the topic. While she could quote every line of every page of her potions book, having memorized it long before her year even began, he found her knowledge of the subject to be extensive and nothing short of arrogant.

Still, she strived to please the cold man in every day of her life, by doing so, unknowingly making his dislike for her stronger. However, one day in particular, she was actually scolded for doing too much homework, and therefore, she stayed after class to finally confront him about seemingly always shooting her down when she succeeded so brilliantly.

"Professor? May I speak with you?" She asked timidly, standing before his desk, clutching her books to her chest in a possessive manner as if they were to suddenly disappear.

Severus looked up from his papers with mild interest, his eyes slightly narrowed, quill in hand. "What is it, miss Ayleest." He droned, his tone biting.

Aphandy squared her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated by the dark man. "I wanted to ask why you are constantly belittling me and purposely denouncing me when I deserve better." She told him, her voice only just strong enough to catch his attention.

Severus set his quill down with a protracted sigh and turned to face her, still sitting in his chair. While impressed with her bravery, and a little taken aback by her foolishness, he was rather displeased with her audacity. "Miss Ayleest, I give the proper grades to every student, yours are no exception." He told her with a lazy flick of his wrist, as if dismissing the conversation then and there.

"But professor," Aphandy dared to protest. "I get every question right, I do all my potions correctly, even do potions above my grade, what do I have to do to gain your approval?" She pleaded.

Severus gave her a long, thoughtful look, taking in the child's pleading face. "I do not take kindly to over-achievers or attention-seekers; therefore I would appreciate you relenting on your fruitless attempts at impressing me." He drawled, noting her despondent expression.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and she stared at the floor. "So I can't do anything right?" She whispered, daring to cast a glance up at the potions professor as he had already begun going back to his work.

Her question made him pause. He turned to look at her slowly, quill raised slightly above his parchment, a drop of ink threatening to drip of the end. "Miss Ayleest, I don't believe I understand your question." He said, his voice taking a sort of edge to it.

"Well, if I were to stop doing so well, I would get bad grades, but if I were to drop back a little, I would get grades lesser than that of which I am deserving. If I am to continue the way I am, I still won't get grades equivalent to my hard work."

Severus sighed, setting down his quill once more, leafing through the pile of ungraded essays before he found hers. He quickly read it over, then held it up for her to see. "What grade would you deem 'equivalent' to this?" He asked.

"An Outstanding at least." She said proudly, smiling at him.

He furrowed his brow. "'At least'? You do realize that getting an Outstanding is the highest grade?" He wondered if she were being deliberately incompetent or if she sincerely thought there was a higher grade.

"Maybe an O plus or something." She murmured, taking the paper and staring at it. "They should have that, you know, only for the best students." She looked back up at him, her big green eyes shining in the torchlight of the dimly lit classroom.

It was the mere suggestion of such a grading system for the more gifted students that made Severus actually give her a half-amused half-withering look. "Oh really, an O plus you say?" He asked and she nodded, smiling brightly only seconds before realizing the thought didn't actually strike him as intelligent. He blinked lazily, staring at her with a bored expression. "May I remind you that if every student were allowed to grade their own work, every bumbling idiot to ever walk these halls would get passing grades?"

Her face paled at his tone of voice, which had risen to a stern growl. "I know." She murmured. "And I'm not suggesting that Hogwarts start allowing it. I'm just saying that I believe you're unfairly judging my work." She told him, her voice leveled with an appropriate amount of respect behind the firmness. Severus stared at the impudent child before him, tempted to smile at her impertinence, but settling for taking three points off Slytherin and telling her to leave.

"But professor-" She actually dared to continue to argue after being let off so easily? He leveled her an irritable glare that made her pause and consider the consequences of continuing her line of reasoning. "I just... want to know why you don't like me." She murmured. "You give everyone else fair grades..."

Severus sighed wearily. The child was exhausting! "Child, you are aggravating me with your continued presence, must I list you for detention as well?" He threatened.

She was unbothered by his intimidating tone. "Please professor, just... just answer the question? I'll leave you alone if you do." She whispered.

Severus sighed, wishing very much to let her know that the matter wasn't up for discussion, dispute or compromise, but decided to humor her. "Very well, why do I dislike you? Because you are an impertinent, persistent, over-achieving, ingratiating, attention-seeking know it all. And as for why I grade your papers the way I do? Because I know you can do better."

Both froze at this confession. Severus himself hadn't known that he had higher expectations for the green-eyed Slytherin. She had never guessed the only reason he graded her papers out of everyone else's unfairly, was to motivate her to try harder. He felt that if she got higher grades, she wouldn't try harder, she would settle for what she was doing, and wouldn't meet her fullest potential, and he wasn't about to let her talent go to waste because of that.

"So… you think I can do better than I am…" She murmured.

"No, miss Ayleest, I know you can." He mumbled, fiddling with his quill. The situation had taken an awkward turn, one he wasn't sure how to follow.

"Professor… do you think… I could maybe take a few extra lessons? I really do want to meet your expectations." She told him softly.

Severus looked up, surprised that a student actually _wanted _to do more. "Of course, miss Ayleest." He murmured.

Aphandy let out a small, timid smile. "When should I come for extra lessons?" She asked.

Severus contemplated this for a moment. "Nine AM on Saturday. Don't be late." He told her, turning back to his ungraded papers.

Aphandy smiled, turning to walk out. She stopped just before closing the door. "Professor?" She called. The dark man looked up at her, unsure what to think of the child anymore. "Thank you."

**AN: So basically, this was a one-shot about Snape's personal relationship with an egghead student like Hermione and why he doesn't like them. I really don't think I'll be adding any more chapters… but if you want me to, just let me know. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Aphandy padded down the dark halls of the dungeon, going towards the empty classroom where she knew her professor waited. She hugged her potions book to her chest more tightly, as if she feared it would suddenly vanish in the darkness of the halls.

"Professor? Are you here yet?" She whispered into the dark room as she pushed the heavy door open a peek. Her eyes traveled the emptiness, her breath making a small fog from the bitter chill. When she got no reply, she stepped fully into the room, lighting up her wand. "Professor-" She began when she heard a noise.

"You're early."

Aphandy let out a squeak and spun around at the deep voice that droned right behind her to see the potions master looming there in all his glory, his black hair and robes blending with the darkness and almost, seemed a part of it.

"Professor." She said in a mixture of relief and apprehension. She hadn't known quite what to expect from the pale man, as she'd never seen him outside of class or on the weekends. While she wore her muggle clothes for comfort and warmth, he still adorned his black robes. But then, what else would he have worn? Certainly not muggle clothing.

"Miss Ayleest." He returned, stepping into the room and lighting two or three of the torches with a flick of his wand. The dark room was instantly filled with a dull glow that did nothing to warm the permanent chill in the air. An involuntary shiver passed down Aphandy's spine, making her teeth rattle. She clenched her jaw and followed him to the back of the room, back into a room she hadn't even known was there. It looked like his own personal potions room. It was smaller, with three of the four walls covered in shelves filled with books or bottled potions ingredients.

Aphandy let out a small sound of awe as she stared around. "Miss Ayleest?" She turned back to professor Snape as he stared at her, irritation clear on his face.

"Sorry." She murmured, moving over to his worktable and began setting up her cauldron. "What will we be brewing today?" She asked, noting the small space and realizing their sudden close proximity when her shoulder brushed his arm. She shuffled uncomfortably to the side, playing with the fraying edge of her potions book.

"What, pray tell, is _this _abomination?" He asked, not answering her question but rather reaching across her and plucking the old book from her grasp.

She blinked, furrowing her brow. "I should think it to be quite obvious, professor. That's my potions book…?" She blinked, looking up at him as he flipped through it, his brow furrowing further and further.

He snapped it shut. _"This," _He held it up for her to see. "Is _not _a potions book, it is like I said earlier, an abomination. How can you possibly read any of this? Are you really this careless to spill your potions all over it?" he opened it and pointed to one page in particular with warped pages and huge stains.

Aphandy stared at her feet, her face a bright pink. "Sorry, professor. My mum got that for a discount from a friend who went to Hogwarts before me. I couldn't afford anything better." She murmured, her Irish accent sounding thicker than usual as she murmured in embarrassment.

She looked back up to see the scowl of disapproval on his face. He held it up once more, his eyebrows raising, then, wordlessly, he dropped it in his wastebasket. He turned, snatching a brand new book from a nearby shelf and presenting it to her. Her eyes lit up as she took it, smoothing her fingers over the perfect cover, her eyes gleaming in the dim light.

"Thank you, professor!" She cried, a delighted smile taking over her features. He replied with a low grunt and turned back to the table.

"If you'll open to page two hundred and thirty five, you will see a potion. I want you to brew it-" The lesson continued like that, him instructing her like he would in class, her following his instructions and trying her best to not accidently brush against him in the process in the tight space they were working in. If he noticed her out of the way efforts, he said nothing of them. She felt Snape's intense gaze while she was cutting, crushing and putting things into the cauldron, trying not to let it bother her.

Severus watched her with a practiced eye, following her movements, which were smooth and precise. She had exact timing and kept her workspace as clean as possible. She really was a top student, but he felt she could still do better, and he aimed to push her to do so.

He grabbed her wrist suddenly as she was about to put an ingredient in, causing her to startle, looking over at him in surprise. "No." He murmured. "Let me show you one of my old tricks." He took the chopped ingredients from her small hand and lay them back down on her cutting board. "Like this." He murmured, his voice both smooth and hard at the same time, echoing softly in the small room.

"Don't chop it so carelessly, you must take it in smoother proportions." He showed her, then let her take over, watching as she mimicked his movements perfectly, then put them in the cauldron and stirred it, glancing at him for his approval. He nodded slowly and a small smile flickered over her lips, but it disappeared as quickly as it was there.

"What should I do with this when it's done?" She asked, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face as it was becoming frizzy from the steam rising from the cauldron and mixing with the frigid air.

"Just leave it here, it needs to set overnight. Come again tomorrow morning and we shall see if you have done it properly." He told her, folding his arms across his broad chest.

She nodded and collected her things. "Thank you professor." She murmured before slipping past him out of the small room, flinching slightly when their arms brushed again. She glanced back to see his eyes on her before she looked away and hurried out of the classroom.

**AN: Not sure if this'll be a slash… I'm all about forbidden romances, and a student/teacher romance is surely forbidden, so… leave your reviews! I'll make it a romance if you want it that way. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

The thoughts that occupied Draco's mind every waking moment, even keeping him from a good night's sleep were putting a strain on his mind. He tried desperately, oh how he tried to keep the conscience at bay, but the thought of turning his back on every morality that had been lovingly drilled into him in those long years at Hogwarts was taking its toll. His skin became pallid, and his once fine hair became lifeless and completely washed-out of any color that had previously been there. He was, truly, white.

Though he had always been thin, he had never been as skin-and-bones as he was now. He had never gone a meal without eating, never sat there, staring blankly at the empty plate while others around him ate to their own content, often over-eating as it were. And yet, there he was, sitting, staring, touching nothing.

Draco's life lay before him in genuine chaos, his every dream had been shattered, as he had once held his father as nothing less than an idol, whom had now fallen from grace and was only a shell of his former self, often walking around in dazes, or else taking out his anger and frustration on his wife and son.

Draco himself had lost much of the nonchalant way he had viewed the world, with a blink and a superior smirk was how he had always taken most things. Every thoughtless grace he'd once possessed had left him, leaving him weak and clumsy, no longer able to uphold his charismatic air of pre-eminence.

His once elegant poise had been reduced to a dejected slump, accompanied by a feeling of helplessness. He did everything he was told, when he was told to do it without question – he had learned the hard way that the Dark Lord, did _not _like his motives questioned by 'impudent children' such as poor Draco.

Draco couldn't help but feel he was being used, that there were things he should, and _could _do without his father or even the Dark Lord himself ordering it so. But it was hard… impossible even. He couldn't find the courage to do it. _I'm a coward. _He thought as he sat there, glowering at his plate, and then, three words from someone he barely knew made him change his mind about everything. Three words that proved that not everyone was evil, some people cared. Could Draco share the same courage to care about someone he didn't know?

Aphandy sighed, slipping into her seat at the Slytherin table, right across from Draco Malfoy, where she usually sat. Draco and Aphandy weren't really friends, they just spoke once in a while and tolerated each other.

Aphandy slowly slid her fork into her mouth, watching the Slytherin boy as he stared at his plate. She sighed and set her fork down. "You should eat." She murmured, low enough that she half hoped he wouldn't hear.

But lo and behold, the blonde Slytherin looked up and Aphandy found herself blushing at the confused look he was giving her. "You haven't eaten in days." She whispered, awkwardly scraping some of her own food onto his empty plate. He stared at it for a moment before mumbling his thanks and listlessly stabbing at it, but not really eating any of it, a look of deep contemplation showing on his face as he stared at her.

Aphandy had always liked Draco, but never more than in a friendly way. She admired him, because as she watched him grow, she also watched him slowly fade. In the six years she had known him, since the start of the first year, she had known there was more to him than met the eye. And it only became more obvious as time progressed.

Draco had a mind of his own, a cunning, sharp little mind that could get him along way if he ever thought to use it. Why he ever allowed himself to be so effortlessly utilized into the Dark Lord's cult was beyond Aphandy's comprehension.

And yet, she did know. She _knew _the reason. Draco was afraid. A coward in every sense of the word. Only wanting to impress his bloody father, and to keep his own skin alive by doing everything his father wished, and not caring who might end up dead at his own foolishness. But she could see it, the sense of realization that was slowly dawning on the boy. He was coming to his senses. He was seeing the err of his ways, finally allowing it to come to his attention that he was saving his own life at the cost of many others. But would he ever be able to do it? Risk his own safety for another's?

Aphandy sighed, flicking her eyes down to her own plate before setting her fork down and slipping away from the table. She folded her arms about herself in a protective manner as she padded down empty halls, turning, going up stairs, down stairs, turning some more corners before she reached the portrait that was her destination. She hadn't been feeling well all day. Her stomach hurt, even though she wasn't hungry, her head was hot, even though her body was cold, and the back of her throat burned and ached. She sighed again, longing for her warm bed as she stared down the steps into the darkness of the dungeons.

A cold chill greeted her as she began her decent, the portrait closing behind her and leaving her in utter darkness until a torch lit up, sensing her presence. She let out a relieved sigh, padding lightly down the cold corridor, clutching at her arms, feeling her skin crawl as the cool soaked into her down to the bone. She really wasn't cut out to be a Slytherin, she mused. She was too frightened –of everything. Not cunning enough, and was certainly not cold blooded. She sneezed, then wiped her nose on her thin sleeve and coughed. Certainly not cut out to be a stealth… person, thing. Whatever.

She glared accusingly at the thin material of her second hand robes, thumbing the faded fabric. She let out a startled yelp as she bumped into a wall. She was dazed for a moment, her head resting against the hard stone before she stepped back, rubbing her head and muttering curses to herself for being so clumsy.

"Miss Ayleest."

Aphandy was so startled by the deep rumble that she literally jumped, her body going rigid, her wand flying into her hand, her already fast heart rate speeding as she pointed her ready wand up into the face of… Severus Snape? Her scared-out-of-pants expression quickly turned to an embarrassed blush. It hadn't been a rock wall she'd run into. It'd merely been professor Snape. Oh.

She let out a sheepish chuckle, putting her wand back in its proper pocket and staring at the floor, clasping her hands in front of her, her nails biting into her skin as she fought the urge to drag her gaze up at the man. "P-professor. Sorry. You, you startled me, sir." She croaked, hastily glancing up at him to see his expression was shrouded in darkness and was consequently unreadable.

"Miss Ayleest, I seem to remember dinner is set at this time, why are you not at it?" He asked, his voice echoing softly off the walls. "And what are you doing in this corridor, it is supposed to be sealed off from students."

"I- uhm…" She shifted nervously, resisting the urge to move up against him again, rest her cheek upon the rock that was his chest, breath in the deep scent of Asphodel and Nightshade, along with many other potions ingredients. "Finished my dinner early, sir. And I must have gotten turned around, the torches aren't lit." She murmured, her sore throat making her voice sound raspy.

His head tilted slightly and his arms folded across his chest, shifting his weight casually. "I see." Was all he replied with, his voice thick and penetrating.

Aphandy glanced around nervously, suddenly realizing she had _no _idea where she was. The corridor was completely unfamiliar. "Um, professor?" She asked timidly, looking back up at him, staring where she thought his eyes were, as his face and most of his body was still in the dark, his black hair and clothes blending with the darkness, and, once again, seemed a part of it. She straightened up and stood tall, though he still towered above her. She made herself get control of her emotions and squared her shoulders bravely. "Would you mind walking me to the common room? I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure where I am." She glanced about again, her earlier confidence draining. Would he think her daft for getting herself lost in her own dungeons?

But he made no comment as he moved swiftly passed her, his black cloak billowing behind him and blending with the darkness. Aphandy scurried after him, loathe to lose the silent and invisible man in the darkness. She was rewarded with her haste by smacking nose fist into a cold, hard stone. This time, it really _was _a stone, much to her dismay.

Aphandy let out a tiny moan, rubbing at her forehead as she slipped her wand out and lit it, jumping back in fright when she saw that Snape was looming in front of her, his arms folded, a scowl on his face. The sudden shock made her go into a coughing fit. She pounded against her chest with her fist and steadied herself on the wall, her head spinning. "Watch where you are going, miss Ayleest." Snape warned, casually leaning against the wall she had just run into. Aphandy's face turned a bright pink and she hoped it wasn't visible in the bluish glow of her wand. She cleared her sore throat, shaking off the achy feeling that was taking over her body.

"Sorry, professor." She muttered, angry that this one professor was able to make her a self-conscious fool in a heartbeat, while she was fully confident of herself while in the presence of every other. Why did he have the ability to make her feel so bloody inferior? She sighed quietly as she followed him down the corridor, this time with a lit wand, averse to battle the darkness again, as it was bound to always win.

The dark professor seemed to know his exact way, as he swiftly took several turns Aphandy herself would have passed up, thinking they lead the wrong way. After walking for at least three minutes, her eyes widened. Had she really wandered this far? She had been deep in thought, and for all she knew, could have walked for hours without realizing it... well, maybe not hours... but a long time indeed.

She reached forward and tugged lightly at Snape's sleeve, a motion she regretted as he ripped his arm away, sending a quick glare in her way. She decided to ignore it and ask what she'd intended. "Professor? Are you sure we're going the right way?" She rasped, treading lightly, pulling her thin robes about her more tightly.

"I do hope you are not suggesting I do not know my way around my own dungeons, miss Ayleest?" He intoned dryly without slowing or even turning to look at her.

"No, of course not." She muttered. "But in the mean time, I'm freezing my skin off." The last part was spoken in a barely audible sigh, one of which Severus Snape's finely attuned ears heard.

He turned to face her so sharply that she collided with him, then took a few quick steps back and looked him in the eye. She watched him as he surveyed her for a moment. "Are you intent on catching your death's cold, or are you just stupid?" He demanded after a moment.

"Professor? What do you mean?" She questioned, literally seeing her breath billow before her, her sore throat nearly ready to drive her to distraction, her body shaking and shivering to no end.

He reached forward and clasped a handful of the thin sleeve to her robe, the action making her arm slip free of the fold she'd had across her chest. _"This, _miss Ayleest. Don't tell me this is all you have to wear in the harsh cold of winter? Or do you simply enjoy walking around in rags?"

Aphandy bit her lip at the question. The truth of the matter was that she was poor. She had not enough money to buy better clothing, and her mother certainly didn't either. It was hard enough getting together enough to send her to the school in the first place. "Sorry… professor?" She wasn't sure if she should apologize for her own poverty or not. "But, my mum can't afford anything better." She wiped her nose as she spoke, feeling the unbearable urge to go into another coughing fit as her chest ached from the cold.

Severus stared at the child before him, his eyes narrowed to slits. His fist was still clutching at a handful of the girl's pitifully thin robes and she still stared up at him. He sighed, moving his hand to her forehead which was burning hot despite the cold. "You've a fever." He murmured, almost sounding like he was scolding her for being sick.

He pulled her closer and, despite himself, put and arm over her shoulders, pulling much of his cloak around her in the process and began steering her in the direction of the common rooms again. He didn't wish illness upon any child, especially any child who wasn't foolish, she simply didn't have any thicker clothing. It wasn't her fault she couldn't afford to keep herself from falling ill. Severus felt uncomfortable as the child moved closer to his body and shivered against him. He wrapped the side of his cloak tighter over her thin shoulders and continued walking, feeling her shiver more and more as they walked.

Aphandy started coughing. She coughed so hard she had to stop in her tracks and bend forward, unable to catch her breath as she went into an uncontrollable coughing fit. Severus ushered her forward despite the fact that he had to almost literally drag her as her unwilling feet stumbled forward.

Severus turned, relieved they'd finally reached their destination. Severus ushered the coughing child into the common room to see all the other Slytherins were back from dinner. He paid their looks no mind as he walked her up to the girls dorms. "Under normal circumstances, I would have you go straight to the Hospital Wing, but you mustn't be in the cold any longer." He murmured, making her get into bed. He pulled out a vial, glared at it when it wasn't what he wanted and searched the vials in his pockets a moment before finding what he wanted.

He made her drink it then told her to stay in bed. "You will go straight to Madam Pomfrey tomorrow morning, especially if you are no better then than you are now." He instructed and she nodded tiredly, snuggling up under the covers, her nose red and her cheeks flushed.

Severus left the dorm without another word, snapping at a few first years to go to bed before he entered his own private rooms branching out just from the common room.

**AN: Okay, what do you think of this chapter? I threw a little Draco's POV in there at the beginning. What do you think of Aphandy's viewpoint on Draco? And about Severus seeing a little of himself in Aphandy, being as he saw her not for a daft and rebellious child who was ignorant of the dangers of wandering the cold corridors in thin clothing, but merely a child who simply couldn't afford better garments? (yikes, long-winded!) please review! **


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